DawnSpike drabbles
by Lenidrabbles
Summary: Friendship or romance and sometimes both. All 100 words. Enjoy! Some of these will belong to Boston'verse see profile.
1. list titles

**Shoe-Lacing Methods**

Dawn heard Spike's drunken voice cursing at his feet. She giggled, he was so wasted that he couldn't lace his own boots.

"Dawnie..." He pouted childishly, motioning to the stubborn boots.

Disregarding all warnings, she kneeled in front of him. Taking the laces and sing-songing just as her mother used to do:

"Here's a tree, here a little rabbit. The rabbit runs and runs around the tree and finally hides in this little hole."

She secured the knot and did the same with his other foot.

Spike stared at her quizzically, "You are a strange kid, Nibblet."

Dawn only smiled.

**Some Things I Have Done to Disgrace My Family Name**

Summers women never...

...aim half-innocent, half-wondering and all hungry looks at soulless vampires.

...befriend said vampire but secretly hope it doesn't stay a friendship.

...steal a brief kiss with deliberate, premeditated advantage.

...are jealous of their older sister. Even if Buffy's prettier and braver and of course he'd prefer _her_.

...hate the sister they come from. You don't have that mercy.

...let newly-souled vampires steal brief kisses back. Much less just because he tired of chasing _her_. But it wasn't brief, much less stolen, and you really enjoyed it...

Maybe Summers women would never do it.

But you don't care.

**Not Very Scary Movies**

Screams of horror come from the TV.

Dawn hides her face into his shoulder, purposely tracing his skin with hungry lips.

She's not the girl blowing raspberries as he was chained in Giles' living-room. She hasn't been since he entered her dreams: She's always bound defenceless, and he does more than laugh at her predicament.

He watches the movie stoically, wavering on the fine line this girl always draws for him. He wants to shiver at her heat, but holds back and laughs. "It's not that scary, Dawn."

Spike pretends not to hear the half-hurt, half-angry huff against his skin.


	2. sunset 1

**Of Hippos and Bluffing.**  
(post-Gift)

Spike lighted a cigarette.

He'd seen many summers and many fifteen-years-old girls. Dawn was supposed to enjoy the holidays, be eager to party and become an easy target for hormonal teenagers and hungry vampires. 

But Dawn didn't. Instead she sat in pyjamas on her porch, staring into nothing.

"Bet everyone's staring at the little red cows."

"Hippopotamus." Pause. "You shouldn't smoke inside."

He shrugged, flicking the ash away. "And you shouldn't be outside in pyjamas."

"If you don't like it, come and get me."

Sunset was only some minutes away. "I just might," he muttered as he took another drag.


	3. sunset 2

_Written before NFA aired._

**The Past Didn't Go Anywhere.**

Dawn.

Sunnydale is her past.

This Dawn Summers doesn't know about vampires or Apocalypses. Internet is limited to Law-related searches and she certainly doesn't visit libraries unless she needs information.

When summer comes, Dawn doesn't have school as an excuse anymore.

Buffy's invitation is dodged by claiming a soul-searching trip.

She wanted to visit New York anyway.

Dawn finds him there. His duster has disappeared but everything else is exactly the same.

That happened three weeks ago. Right now Dawn waits for the sunset to come and bring him along.

True, Sunnydale is her past.

But some things cannot stay there.

**Spike.**

Quests were a joke. Nobody ever won and the infamous Powers To Be laughed at them. 

Sick bastards.

On a summer day he'd waited for the sunset and simply left, finally tired of fooling himself.

Angel had accused him of abandoning the cause.

So be it. New York was more interesting than a lawyer firm from hell.

Then he'd found her, a woman replacing his Little Bit.

Spike liked her, more than before.

Dawn didn't bring past memories but instead held the future in her hands. Spike took them every night and waited for her to show him the way.

_Title taken from Feartheinn's fabulous Draco/Ginny story._


	4. alleys

**Untold Secrets.**

He rushed into the alley when he heard her whimper.

"Fuck!"

There she was, barely standing and leaning on a dumpster. Spike shook his head as he remembered that he wasn't supposed to care. "Kid?"

Dawn raised her head, trying to straighten as soon as she saw him. "I killed it." She pointed to the stake on the floor.

Spike nodded, pride surprising him. Then he noticed the rip in her pants, stained with blood.

He had to get her home.

Snaking an arm around her waist, he steadied her. And he tried to remember that he really didn't care.


	5. Tori Amos titles

**Crazy**  
_Set in New York, Winter Break '09_

Spike sent her roses and teddybears.

Dawn told him to find more interesting methods to ask her out.

Spike could do interesting even in rainy days.

Watching as she stepped out of the taxi, Spike shrugged the raincoat off and ran to her.

"Oh my..." Dawn muttered when she saw the nude vampire running toward her. She immediately tugged him back into the taxi. "Are you crazy!" 

"But you said—"

"I just meant something interesting! Like exotic flowers. Or a serenade!"

Spike stared at her. Women! He banged his head helplessly against the car's door. He'd never understand them.


	6. food

**Sunnydale, Summer '02**

"What are you watching, Dawn?"

"The Princess Bride."

Truly a trap for sentimental women and not worthy of Spike's attention. He walked past the sofa intent on going patrol.

The sound of a bag ripping open stopped him. 

He'd rummaged through the Summers' cabinet only hours later. The only plastic bag was of...

"Hey, are those Chocomix?"

Dawn's "Mhmmm" and her little happy moan as she bit into the chocolate goodness quickly changed his mind.

After settling down next to Dawn – and taking the bag hostage – Spike seriously explained to the giggling girl that it was solely for her protection.

**Boston, August '06**

University was harder than Dawn had expected. Now she treasured the few nights between her, the sofa and her favourite movies.

Today's choice was 'The Princess Bride'. Her thoughts had been focused on Buttercup's adventures right until she bit into the first Chocomix.

Dawn sighed.

She'd heard about Spike, of course.

Angel told Buffy that he'd quitted from Wolfham and Hart months ago.

Buffy told Dawn that there was no trail.

Dawn knew that he was in New York.

But she never mentioned his letters.

Neither did she say that his monthly packages always had a bag of Chocomix within.

**New York, Winter Break '08**

Spike couldn't see Dawn behind the sofa's back, but he could picture her silly smile as she watched her favourite movie.

His girl had purposely ignored him for the last hour.

But Spike had a plan...

"Dawnie?"

"Hmmm?"

"Wanna share?"

The sound of the bag opening always had them rushing to make the other's bid.

But nothing happened now.

"If you don't want chocolate on your clothes," he purred, popping a sweet into his mouth. "I'm sure we can take care of that."

Chocolate _and_ sex. Irresistible combination.

"Who said I had any clothes on?"

Spike choked on the chocolate.


	7. books

**Cross-posted at Dawndrabbles**

_Sunnydale, 2001_

Spike found Dawn in his crypt, cross-legged on his bed and scribbling madly on the notebook on her lap.

"What---?"

"Important Literature essay for tomorrow," she interrupted. "It's quiet here."

Noticing the book beside her, Spike laughed. "Just say that Jo was a fool," he chuckled.

"Huh?"

"For letting her beau go." He rolled his eyes. "That was stupid."

Dawn's head shot up. "You've read it?"

"Not much to do in the day."

Well, that made sense. And her essay was still a long way from being finished. "Any other thoughts?"

Spike smirked. "Beth took too long to die..."


	8. hands

**Turning Point.**

That horrible lonely summer, he held her hand without words. She never complained that he was too cold.

When The First attacked and nobody cared about a girl crying over her crappy love life, he caressed her hair awkwardly and said that all men were pigs.

The night she returned to the States, he was there waving madly so that she would notice him.

Now Dawn runs her hand through his sleep-ruffled hair. Tonight has been... strange. But as he wakes up and automatically traps her hand in his, she happily decides that it is the good kind of strange.


	9. poetry

**Something Special**

"And even when everything is forgotten  
and your name disappears in the dawn  
The forgery of these sacred feelings  
shall still not be en-"

"Oh please. Stop please!"

Spike grinned; Dawn was finally laughing. At him. But he couldn't be mad. Not really. "Well, you asked for a poem with your name on it," he groused.

Dawn giggled. "Yes, but not to butcher what we, civilised people, call poetry."

"So you didn't like it?" he asked with a false pout.

Of course, she immediately saw through his façade. "Oh! Don't be such a big baby, Spike!"

He only pouted more.


	10. beginnings

**Memory Lane.**

This hadn't begun when Dawn dragged his drunken arse through Sunnydale, escaping a brawl started because some idiot had ogled her.

It hadn't begun when she'd secretly hunted for him in L.A.. Back then he had sworn that Angel, prophecies and destinies were a mere annoyance when compared to her anger.

Then she came back, tired and wishing to forget her freaky former life. She called him and never noticed that their friendship was the freakiest of them all.

Spike cannot pinpoint the exact moment it started, but with the slim brunette cuddled against his side, he doesn't really care.


	11. David Bowie's titles

For **thomasina75**:

**Modern Love.**

Tara was the first, seeing small smiles in those who hadn't smiled for too long. Then she noticed the hidden smiles following them.

Her cards told her everything would be alright.

Willow was next, hard not to discover the secret when their laughter clang clearly behind closed doors.

She shook her head and swore to stake the next vampire to break a Summers' heart.

Xander was the last, not unusual. He walked in on a kiss that left him blubbering about 'wrong' and 'mad'.

Spike only glared. Dawn hid in his embrace.

Xander had no option but to accept it.


	12. transportation

**Re-acquainting**

At the Scoobies' first reunion Dawn walked past him directly to the wonder behind. Spike's own fault, really, he'd been who taught her to love everything on two wheels that rumbled like a well-petted kitten as it went. She had always treasured the memories, the wind whipping her body and the power under her. She loved the speed, the racing, the sheer adrenaline at Spike's command to hold tight. 

After a careful inspection she took his hand and opened her eyes as wide as they'd go. He smirked knowingly and showed her the helmet with her name labelled on it.

**Convenient**

Riding with Spike means arms tight around him and purring between her legs. But eventually her arms turns into questing hands and impatient fingernails, curiosity gives way to satisfaction and...

There's not enough space.

They want more. One night Spike leaves his precious toy at home and picks her up in a spacious Mercedes instead. 

Dawn likes the idea, doesn't hesitate to show it when they're far enough. He doesn't ask where she learned what she does to him. And if he never brings the same car twice, well, she likes it too much to ask whose car it is.

**Better Than Chocolate**

She likes the wind in her hair, turning his world upside down from her position and his being helpless but to keep some composure until they're home.

She likes his choices for their escapades: black leather and dominant lines. She jokes that he uses fantasies of her to pick them. He smiles and doesn't deny it.

But there's something about the way he carries her to bed every night. It's never fast like the madness of speed, never spiked with the taste of mischief. That feel of his arms around her as he walks to their room, that she loves.


	13. gift

_post-The Gift. Rated F for Fluff. Yes, I realise those two shouldn't go together, but I couldn't help myself. +G+_

_---_

Spike heard the weeping as soon as he stepped inside. He grimaced; now the smallest thing set Dawn off. He nodded to the two witches on the couch. "What happened?"

"Dawn lost the tickets for tomorrow's concert."

"Tickets?" He frowned. "All this rattle for slips of paper?"

"You don't get it. Buffy bought them. They'd have this big sisterly bonding L.A. night..."

"So? Buy the tickets, go with her. That'll calm her."

Willow sighed. "We don't have the money."

"Even if we did," Tara added, "they've been sold out already."

Spike shrugged, already bored, and headed for the kitchen. "Whatever."

---

"Again, why are you doing this?"

"Because I need quick cash and you want cheap help."

Anya studied him. "How cheap?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Cheap enough."

"Xander would do it for free."

An eyebrow quirked up.

"Okay, you would handle any boxes without endangering the merchandise." Anya relented. "You can only work nights, that's half a shift. No benefits because the undead don't get them, and I'm discounti---"

"Discount away, Anya," he interrupted her. "Just hand me the money now and I'll be yours next week." His eyes narrowed. "But remember, not a word."

Anya smiled winningly. "Deal."

---

"This is great!" Dawn shouted over the engine's rumble. "How did you convince Willow to let me ride the bike to L.A.?"

Spike shrugged. "She never said you couldn't."

Dawn giggled, the sound muffled under the helmet. "So I shouldn't tell her, huh?"

"Good call," he shouted back.

"How did you get the tickets anyway?"

"I have a friend, he likes the band." Had a groupie-based diet, too, but Dawn didn't need to know that. "He gave me two for the right price." His life; Spike had used the money to repair his bike for the trip. "You like?"

"Cool!"


End file.
